


Gen'adahl (Roots)

by Rivaini_Dalish



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn, semi-canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 05:48:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5152613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivaini_Dalish/pseuds/Rivaini_Dalish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rashathra Lavellan fights to close the breach and ends up leading the new Inquisition. </p>
<p>**Nearly complete story following this Lavellan. Some liberties take with canon, especially dialogue</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gen'adahl (Roots)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Bioware's Dargon Age. I do however, own Rashathra Lavellan.

The cold seeped into her bones long before she stirred. The constant bite of the freezing stone made her body shiver violently, as if her limp form fought off demons in its sleep. The piercing, echoing crash of a door is what finally brought her mind from the black depths of the Void. Eyes fluttered as she tried to right herself, finding it difficult as her hands were heavy with shackles. The woman struggled to stay upright but golden eyes snapped into focus when footsteps thundered in her ears. 

Rashathra schooled her face into a blank stare. Two humans, women both, stood before her. Her heart rushed in her ears as she began making connections between her condition and the shackles weighing down her hands. The woman swallowed thickly and eyed the two women from behind a curtain of braided hair. A shock of pain washed over her hand as a green light burst forth. Rashathra gritted her teeth but kept her focus on the women circling her like prey. 

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now," growled the woman behind her. "The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you." Her human interrogator circled her like prey, soon joining her companion in glaring down at her. Her accent may have been heavy, but it still told Rashathra that she knew very little. Rashathra kept her glare even, but seething. The woman talking was obviously a warrior; she lacked the certain poise and restraint that rogues and magic users had. The dark haired woman's strength was her tool of choice and she seemed rather inclined to beat the answers she wanted out into the open. She seemed to be fishing for information, grasping at what few straws she had. The elf kept silent, lips pressed into a thin line. 

The first woman grew obviously impatient with Rashathra's silence and grabbed her glowing hand. "Explain this," she hissed, throwing her hand back down. 

"I can't," Rashathra hissed, glaring at the woman now circling her again. 

Her answer was good enough. "What do you mean you can't?" the woman demanded.

"I don't know what this is, or how it got there." Her voice, cloaked in its own Rivani accent, hardened with panic. She had barely noticed her body's condition, but this mark or pulsing energy was unknown and unwanted. She could feel her throat strain to remain open.

"You're lying!" The woman attempted to push her, to grab at her in order to force more information out, but was stopped by her silent companion. "We need her, Cassandra," she said, attempting to calm the he other down. This Cassandra seemed to respect her companion, and hovered near the door, now silent. "Do you remember what happened? How this began?" Rashathra blinked and found this woman, a chantry worker by the looks of it, staring down at her, and felt compelled to answer. 

Visions flashed before her, dark, confused, and terrible. "I remember running," she started, eyes distant to the present. She heard her feet scrambling up a rock face and squealing, unnerving noises pursued her. "Things were chasing me." She remembered struggling over the crest of the cliff and a figure holding out their hand. She could quite see her face, nor did she recognise anything of her surroundings. "And then, a woman." The elf's voice trailed off as she struggled for more details, ultimately finding none. 

Her new interrogator stopped dead. "A woman?" she echoed. 

"She reached out to me. But then..." Rashathra trailed off once more, not exactly knowing what happened next. 

Her interrogators stiffened for a moment, apparently satisfied with her account. The one called Cassandra left her post by the door to start shuffling her companion out. "Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift." Rashathra's mind jolted to her defences, her body tensed as the warrior neared her. The elf thought about rushing for the door as Cassandra unlocked her metal shackles, replacing them with rope ones. Her body and mind were unprepared for what could be outside, what kind of force she would be met with. 

"What did happen?"

Her voice was small, and sounded pathetically weak. Rashathra didn't realise she has spoken aloud until she received a answer. "I-it will be easier to show you." 

The elf struggled to shield her eyes from the glaring snow, but her eyes were dragged up to a tear in the sky, pulsating green like her hand. The swirling vortex has captured massive boulders in its grasp and spun them like leaves in the wind. Rashathra felt the panic and dread that ate at her stomach seep into her bones. Her arms grew weak at the pure destruction on the area. "The Breach" they called it, a tear straight into the Fade, the realm of spirits and demons. Cassandra's explanation only vaguely registered before she was pushed along the snowy track. 

An explosion had destroyed the conclave, and all inside. Though she held no allegiance to these humans, Rashathra couldn't ignore the threat that this tear posed; it grew. The Breach grew with easy passing hour and consumes and corrupts more of the landscape, more of the world. And the survivors held her responsible. 

Another pulse of the Breach sent the elf to her knees as the green magic forced her hand open, tearing at the cracks in her palm until she was sure it would tear it in two. Her mouth fell open with stifled screams as she tried to see past the pain. The mark and Breach pulsed in time, angrily swallowing more of her and the land to gain purchase. Cassandra leaned over her, seeming pleading with her to cooperate. "Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads, and it is killing you." Rashathra stared bleary eyed at her hand, noticing how wisps of green now sprouted from the back of her hand and wrist. "It may be the key to stopping this, but there's not much time." Her voice seemed gentler, almost empathetic there, kneeling in the snow. Rashathra tried to search her face for any hint of a lie or withholding, but found none. 

"I understand." 

Cassandra seemed relieved, and she helped her to stand. "Then?"

"I will do what I can." The compassion Cassandra had disappeared as she pulled the elf along through the rows of tents. Angry humans crowded the entrances to look at her, some ready to spit at her. The warrior woman tried to explain, to justify the human's rage, going on about the Divine and her cause, but Rashatha only felt the weight of her vallaslin and the sharpness of her ears. She prayed for Mythal to protect her.


End file.
